Silver Lining
by factoryrain
Summary: Matthew Williams wants to go to the college of his dreams. Matthew Williams insists on going to greater lengths to pay for college. Ivan Braginsky doesn't feel fulfilled with his life. Ivan also insists on pushing some limits. RusCan, human AU, prostitution AU, warnings listed inside.
1. Jean Lambert

Silver Lining

Chapter 1: Jean Lambert

Important note: This work contains sensitive material including prostitution, drug use, mentions of sex with a minor (17 year old), and non-explicit sex (legal and consensual).

And I must say, I do not agree with most of the actions displayed by the characters in this story. I usually write healthy relationships but one between a student prostitute and a teacher isn't one of them. The relationship presented, though, contains no trace of abuse or noncon.

What I mean is, there's better jobs to help pay for over-priced higher education (though I have nothing against sex workers), don't fuck your teacher, and don't let this work, nor any other work you read, convince you to do bad things though the events played out in the story actually end happily.

Well, saying that, this was going to end on an immoral note, but I've had quite enough with bad endings since I wrote Tangents and Asymptotes.

So enjoy!

(8:31) From 674-502-1178  
><em>Is this Jean Lambert?<em>

Matthew didn't check the message until he was finished helping his dad and brother clean up after dinner. He wasn't surprised to see yet another message on his IPod show up, right after dealing with one of his regulars and a couple of new ones that same week. He guessed the word of 'Jean Lambert' services have been going around. This meant more danger for Matthew getting caught getting paid to have sex with strangers, but then again more customers meant more money. He might be able to get into SCAD after graduation now with the money he's getting from it.

(8:48) To 674-502-1178  
><em>Yes<em>

(8:50) From 674-502-1178  
><em>Good, it's convenient how you allow clients to text you, by the way. How much do you charge?<em>

(8:51) To 674-502-1178  
><em>Depends on what you're expecting and how well I do.<em>

(8:54) From 674-502-1178  
><em>All I'm looking for is a good time and if you're as cute as Gilbert says you are, I'm sure you'll do fine. How about 200$?<em>

Matthew had to put down the IPod for a second and thank God, ironically, for this client. Usually newbies liked to throw in 80$ at most.

(8:56) To 674-502-1178  
>You have my attention. When and where?<p>

(8:59) From 674-502-1178  
><em>My house, Friday or Saturday night if your schedule agrees. Whatever time.<em>

(9:01) To 674-502-1178  
><em>Friday at 11 will be fine, you can find me at the third bench on College Rd. Also, I need to know, are you married or have any roommates?<em>

(9:01) To 674-502-1178  
><em>It's okay if you do, it's just less safe for either of us to do this at your place if you do.<em>

(9:02) From 674-502-1178  
><em>I live alone, don't worry.<em>

Being paid 200$ and not fucking a married man was like going on a ski trip during winter break for Matthew. He wanted to thank the man, but that would be inappropriate, he thought.

(9:03) To 674-502-1178  
><em>Got it, now can I get your name?<em>

(9:04) From 674-502-1178  
><em>Ivan Braginsky<em>

The first thought that came to Matthew's mind was how much makeup he had to put on Friday night, and how much he'll have to change his voice. But he couldn't assume things, even though Alfred's athletics teacher had the exact same name.

Could he back out now? What if he recognizes him? A teacher is hiring a prostitute! Matthew has gone as far as to be a prostitute at age 18 while still going to high school for college money, what is he doing criticizing the man? He is paying 200$, and might become a regular and pay even more. And he isn't a bad looking man. If Matthew disliked scandalous things, he wouldn't have considered selling his body to strangers while he was still underaged at the time.

(9:06) To IB  
><em>I'll see you Friday night, Ivan.<em>

…

Around 10:30, Matthew arrived at College Road. He always came early and did his hair and makeup in the supermarket's bathroom before his client arrived. This was to avoid having to get past Alfred or his dad in makeup that made him look unrecognizable. He outlined his eyes all the way on the top, thicker towards the outer ends, winged it, and led a thinner line down to the bottom just a little bit. He barely wore any eye shadow, and he usually went with browns or soft grays when he did, nothing sparkly, unless one of his clients stated otherwise (which they have). He very rarely wore blush.

He didn't start wearing makeup until he realized how recognizable his face is. Thankfully, his down-low status at school and the area he lived in saved him. Just to be safe, he started using it so he didn't have to be worried about someone finding out his real identity.

He quickly moved his hair to part on the left side of his head. It both made him look different and more mature, and it was better than tying his hair back into a ponytail. Customers found it nice to pull it during sessions, and Matthew didn't quite appreciate that.

Matthew shoved his makeup containers into his bag. Before leaving the bathroom, he made sure he had his actual cellphone, IPod, and pocket knife on him; proper precautions just in case Mr. Braginsky turned out to be a murderer, he could defend himself and get help. It's a legitimate worry, he thought. He straightened up his loose-fitted shirt, one he usually wore if type of clothing wasn't specified. Many of his clients liked having say in what he wore for them, and would usually pay more to see him in lingerie or dress shirts.

"Matthew," Lars Hendricks whispered from the counter. Matthew looked up at the store's clock, he had time to spare.

"Hey Lars, how's it going?" He replied.

"Working," He told him. "I see you are, too,"

"Yeah, new guy, he's paying a lot,"

"Hm, need anything before you go?"

"I don't think so,"

"We got this new silicon based lube,"

"Really? But does it work well?"

"I heard it works better than water-based stuff," He took a bottle from under the counter and set it on the table. "I'll throw in a box of condoms, too," Damn Lars.

"I don't know what size he is,"

"Are you sure you're not going to be the one using them?"

"He's probably twice my size, but maybe,"

"Okay fine, how about a bottle of water instead?" Matthew sighed.

"That'll be good," He handed Lars a handful of ones. "Thanks,"

"No problem, Matthew," Matthew shoved his things into his bag.

"I have to go," Lars smiled slightly.

"Be safe,"

"I will,"

Outside, Matthew arrived at the third bench. It was an older bench; musty and deluded into the shadows of the nearby tree. Matthew rarely has seen anyone sit there other than him, so he always referred to it as his.

Every time he sat in it, he remembered the first night with his first client. The event wasn't planned beforehand, and Matthew was just out on a walk when he was approached by the man. The guy seemed very sketchy when he greeted him, called him pretty twice, and smiled more than he should. Matthew didn't know what the man was actually looking for that night until a wad of cash was placed on his lap.

"Come with me to my car," something in his head that night made him decided to follow him without any hesitation. Money, probably. Or maybe the thought of getting his hands dirty for once made him feel… Nice.

Matthew knows it was stupid but after cleaning the leftovers from his mouth and cheek in the Supermarket's bathroom, he counted out how much the man had paid. A lot more desperate men would win his way into SCAD easily.

He sat on the bench and took a deep breath, trying not to think about how much trouble he would be getting into if the man was actually Alfred's teacher, and if he recognized him. _Can I turn back now? _The car driving up and stopping in front of the bench told him otherwise.

The car's window slowly rolled down. "Jean?" Matthew couldn't deny that was the voice of Alfred's teacher. He took a deep breath.

"Oui, you're on time," Matthew managed to speak clearly and confidently, using a much deeper voice and a little bit of an accent he had worked up over the past year. He peered into the car's window to see Ivan Braginsky was smiling; he didn't notice a thing obviously.

"The door's unlocked," Matthew opened the door, sat down and set his bag at his feet. "Put your seatbelt on. Oh, and you have to manually lock the door," He glanced over and pushed the lock button down. "Sorry, I need to get that fixed." He apologized.

After Ivan's short laugh after the last part, things got quiet. Matthew was too scared to look at the man, and he hoped he liked to do things in the dark. How long will he keep him? How many rounds? Matthew's eyes looked at the reflection of himself and Ivan in the car's window. He was so large and muscular. Will he be rough or gentle? Matthew couldn't decide if the session would be worth how much he was being paid.

"So," Ivan broke the silence. "How old are you, anyway?" Matthew wasn't surprised by this question, but he was glad to hear it. The clients who cared enough to ask sometimes made more pleasing evenings on Matthew's part. He treated all his clients the same; well, catering and anything more if stated, no matter how rough they are to him or how brutal Matthew feels the next morning. Only sometimes will "how old are you" lead up to "am I hurting you" or "are you satisfied" later at night and Matthew was grateful for getting some sort of care for what he has to go through most of the time.

"23," Fake name, fake age. Matthew didn't want to pity that comes with telling someone he's any younger than that.

"Wow, I'm surprised," yet another expected comment. "You look much younger. What got you into this kind of job?" Not many had asked this before. He didn't like going into detail about his life with any of his clients. They weren't paying him for a life story.

"Money," Matthew answered.

"Not pleasure, too?"

"It's not good to expect pleasure, it's my job to give, not receive," Ivan let out a pleasing "hmm" as he nodded.

"You work alone?"

"Yes,"

"What are your rules?" He cleared his throat, happy that he asked.

"Wear and condom and don't wreck the merchandise,"

"I see," Ivan pulled up into a driveway. "I have condoms, and I don't plan on wrecking the –" he glanced over at Matthew. "– Merchandise either." He parked the car and they got out.

Inside, Ivan's small home was neat and orderly, unlike how he would imagine a teacher's house. Since he was little, he always imagined teachers to live in disorderly homes and sleep in a sweating ball of stress during the night in a pile of blankets.

"You can take your shoes off here." He pointed to the mat next to the front door. Matthew did as he was told and slipped his shoes off, momentarily glimpsing at his surroundings. A few picture frames caught his eyes; ones of Ivan and two women. One looked older than him, the other much younger. He could tell they were related, probably his sisters. The decorations like fine tea sets and fancy bookshelves filled with a variety of books also gained his attention. He seemed more like a professor than a gym teacher, if anything.

He followed Ivan into the main bedroom consisting of a small bed in the corner next to a window, a nightstand with a lamp and two drawers, a large closet door across from it, and a desk. Matthew threw his bag in the corner and sat on the bed. Ivan began muttering some nonsense about the house and bedroom as he sat next to Matthew. As he rambled, Matthew assumed he was being shy and unsure about starting, but he was there for whatever Ivan wanted. He simply listened and nodded in response.

Finally, Ivan began taking his jacket, scarf and shirt off. Matthew followed, stretching his back and arms some. He felt Ivan's eyes observing his body enquiringly as he did so. He continued to look away and not watch while the other put his hands on sides and stomach, gently getting a feel of Matthew's body. In a few drawn-out seconds, he was facing Ivan with his legs spread out on either side of his as he sat on the teacher's lap. Ivan held eye contact with him for only a split second before trailing down the side of his face and neck, grazing his lips along his skin as he went.

"You're far more cuter than I expected." He muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Matthew to hear.

Ivan took his foreplay slowly, but after the foreplay and preparation, Ivan grew impatient and rough. During these times, Matthew liked to focus more on the client himself. He had taken a semester of psychology a couple years ago, but even so, he didn't have much experience in figuring people out. He still enjoyed trying to take guesses at who he was really with, why he was hired, and wonder what their past and daily lives were like. He knew he would probably never know if his guesses were right, but the little game got him through sessions a lot easily.

He constantly reminded him to look at him while they fucked, and he was told to beg quite a few times. Matthew wanted to say Ivan probably wanted to feel wanted but even those who are 'wanted' could want the same from their partner. He could already guess that Ivan was quite lonely, not just by how he lived alone but how was when he was picked up and while they talked. He was awkward and shy, Matthew wondered if he was nervous when trying to hire him. He pondered about why he was hired. Possible recent break up? Boredom? He didn't feel like he was able to guess just yet.

By the time Ivan was finished, Matthew was sprawled out on the bed sheets, faced down and tired. Ivan kept his place until he caught his breath, then he pulled out and sat at the side of the bed. Matthew's heart rate went down to normal, he took a deep breath and attempted to wipe the cum off of his chest and stomach with his hand.

Ivan turned and looked at him. "One second, let me get you a towel." Matthew nodded, Ivan got up and left the room. He came back and handed Matthew a small hand rag.

"Thanks," Matthew told him, cleaning himself off. "If you're up for another round, this might be somewhat useless, huh?"

Ivan laughed some and sat down next to him. "You could say that, but I wouldn't want to be sticky when starting again." Ivan's hand went to his lower back. Matthew stopped himself from squirming uncomfortably from feeling his hand softly move to his shoulders. He didn't feel that the contact was bad, but he found it odd. Matthew shifted some, left the towel sitting on the side of the bed, and stretched out his arms. He felt Ivan observing him like before, with a smile on his face.

…

This story is based on a fic I found a while back titled "Two Lonely Children" by themagnificent ME and though it was dark and had very disturbing elements, I was sad to see that it will probably never be finished. So here's my not-so-dark RusCan story to fill the void.


	2. A Regular

Silver Lining

Chapter 2: A Regular

Matthew's night with Ivan had gotten him 200$ and five marks on his shoulders and neck. His 3 other clients had left Matthew with a total of 590$, ten cents, 11 hickeys, and a nice bite mark on his thigh. He also managed to get promised more sessions with two of the new clients, one being Ivan.

_What a weekend_, Matthew had told himself as he checked himself out Sunday night. He would have to give himself the next Saturday off to chill out. Besides, he knew he had plenty of testing to do that week already.

That Monday, Matthew woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, and rode with Alfred to school as usual. And as usual, Alfred complained about having to wake up early for school. Matthew, on the other hand, loved Mondays; he enjoyed the feeling of being back to simple, high-schooler-status Matthew Williams again.

And if he were more exhausted from the weekend, he would tell Alfred that at least he didn't spend the weekend being fucked into a mattress.

At school, Matthew approached his locker to get his things for first period. He opened the door, finding yet another picture of a seal inside his locker. He wasn't much surprised; Carlos Machado had started a trend of printing out strange internet pictures, consisting of mainly seals, and placing them in his locker as a joke. Matthew always laughed to some degree after seeing them. If anything, they kept Matthew's school life a little interesting.

After grabbing his English and Government books, he closed his locker and checked his phone.

(7:38) From Toilet Water  
><em>Where you at<em>

(7:39) From Toilet Water  
><em>Also I'm running out of seal pictures to put in your locker. Bear with me, will you? And meet me in Mr. Beilshit's room.<em>

(7:47) To Toilet Water  
><em>Tragic! Yeah, I'm on my way.<em>

Matthew shoved his phone back into his pocket and ran to the science hall and into Mr. Beilschmidt's room.

"No Carlos, that is not how covalent bonds work." Mr. Beilschmidt was leaned over Carlos' desk, pointing at his paper. Both had looked up when Matthew entered the room, Carlos giving him a large grin.

"Are you here for help, too?" The teacher asked.

"No sir, Carlos told me to meet him in here." Matthew set his bag by the desk next to his, on the other side of where Mr. Beilschmidt was standing.

"And now you could help _me_ out." Carlos stated; him and Matthew chuckling a bit. "We're going over covalent and ironic bonds."

"Ionic," both Matthew and Mr. Beilschmidt corrected him. Carlos frowned.

"Yeah, I'll help you out." Matthew smiled.

…

Later that day, after third period had ended, Carlos and Matthew headed to accounting. The walk was long, and they always had to run from their third period to make it to the next building over so they didn't end up late.

On the way, Matthew had become distracted by the story Carlos was telling him and the exaggerated hand movements he was using. He didn't realize they also had to walk past Mr. Braginsky on the way until they were only a few yards away from him.

Matthew tried paying attention to the rest of Carlos' story, but he couldn't help but tense up nervously as they approached the teacher. Even worse, Carlos had stopped talking and looked up at him as they passed.

"Hi Mr. Braginsky!" he spoke. Matthew kept his eyes on Carlos and away from Mr. Braginsky.

"Good morning, Carlos." He answered back.

Carlos didn't stop walking; and thankfully, he was back to his story within seconds. Matthew let out an internal sigh of relief.

Once they sat down in accounting, Carlos slammed his fist onto the desk the two shared, making Matthew jump back into his seat.

"Are you doing anything Saturday?" He asked. Matthew thought for a bit. Since he was planning on taking a break from work that day, it probably wouldn't hurt to make other plans.

"I don't think so, why?"

"I was hoping we could finally hang out for the night at my house that day. We don't chill much anymore, you know?" Matthew smiled nervously; he wasn't wrong. His weekend job always filled up his schedule, and he was much too tired to spend time with his friends when he wasn't occupied. He took a deep breath, smiling some.

"That sounds fun, I'll be over there."

…

Matthew got home Friday afternoon exhausted. He placed a few tardy slips from his accounting teacher, due to trying to take alternative paths to avoid Mr. Braginsky, onto the counter for his dad to look at when he got home. He raced to his room and jumped onto his bed. He thought he might as well throw a bag of clothes together for his stay at Carlos', but he always ended up wearing the clothes he came in during his entire stay. He should just pack his usual things to take to Gilbert's that night…

He reached under his pillow and felt around for his IPod. Pulling out, the screen was on and showing he had unread messages.

(1:06) From IB  
><em>Can we move my session to 7 on Sunday? Do you do Mondays?<em>

(2:39) From FB  
><em>When are you open for PS?<em>

(2:44) From IB  
><em>Nevermind, Mondays are not so good.<em>

Matthew laughed at this, of course Mondays aren't good! Teachers need to be grading work and helping high schoolers prepare for their future. Then again, Ivan was an athletics teacher, he didn't have written assignments to grade.

But thank goodness he didn't recognize Matthew during the week. He counted the months left of school till graduation. February, March, April, May…. Just four more, he told himself. Four more months of having to attend school while working, four more months of having school take up days he could be seeing clients and getting paid, four more months to get everything together in case he's able to attend SCAD…

_No, no!_ He told himself sternly. _I will have enough, and I will not continue this job any longer. I will get out of here and never have to have sex with another desperate asshole again! Unless I actually want to, that is._

He replied to both of them, resettled his session with Ivan on Sunday and agreed on phone sex with Francis in a few minutes, well before his dad would get home, before he would leave for Gilbert's, and with Alfred out of the house.

Matthew laid his head face down into his pillow, frustrated that he wouldn't be getting the break he desired.

…

By the next day, Matthew was rested up and well when he arrived over a Carlos' house. Hours had passed while the two binge-played a whole game fully and snacked to no end. They chatted endlessly and laughed until his mom would yell for them to quiet down. Matthew couldn't be happier; he missed being able to fun things with Carlos normally like they did for years.

They would do something together almost every weekend when they were kids, but once they hit high school, times changed. At first, it was because Carlos had football and debate practice, and Matthew was busy with art and writing. Then, Matthew had begun his 'job' and they only saw each other at school.

Spending more time with Carlos was something Matthew would add to his 'just four more months' list he had going.

"Hey, Matt." Matthew took his attention away from his thoughts and looked over at Carlos. He hadn't focused away the TV screen to look back at him. "Is there something you have been up to lately?"

"Not really, why?" Matthew had already planned on how to reply if anyone, including him, Alfred, or any of his other friend, if he was asked that sort of question. He would have to act casual about it, and tell them he's been preparing for college… That way, he wouldn't be lying completely.

"You've just been acting a little different, that's all." Matthew thought for a moment.

"How so?"

"Just the way you are around some people. Like you don't act so… 'Matthew-y' towards people anymore."

Matthew laughed with him. "Matthew-y?"

"Yeah, you used to be so shy around people but now you're not so shy, I guess. Maybe I'm just noticing you're growing out of that."

"Maybe, but maybe I'm just better at getting past it, you know?"

"Yeah." There was a pause. "There's another thing, too."

"What is it?" Matthew lay down next to him, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"I don't want to sound weird or get into your business…"

"You won't, just say it."

"…."

"Carlos?"

"You seem to have something on your mind all the time, and I guess I've been worried about it."

"That's not weird, and I'm fine, I swear." He gave his friend a reassuring smile.

"But it's kinda like that feeling I have whenever you're in need or upset. You wouldn't hide anything from me, would you? Especially if it's important."

"No, of course not." Matthew kept his smile in place, feeling himself wanting to cry. He was happy to have Lars to talk to about something so major in his life, but he didn't think his life-long friend would understand. He didn't believe he would ever tell him, his family, or any of his other friends about it, even after he quit. Even the worse of the nights as a prostitute could not make him regret being one more than how he thought Carlos, his brother, or his dad would react upon finding out he was one.

But, as of now, he had his best friend to enjoy his time with.

…

Sunday night came around the corner, Matthew was sitting on his bench, prettied up with his make-up and hair done, waiting for Ivan's aged car to pull up. The frilly lingerie he had on under his jeans was slightly pestering him, and his shirt wasn't quite thick enough to shield him from the cold, late-January air. He was less nervous this time, happy that perhaps Ivan was half-decent and not thinking too much about a nightly adventure with a prostitute during school hours and around _children_.

He didn't quite think about what he would do if he was caught. Deny it? Apologize? Ivan probably wouldn't want to turn him in and admit he was hiring a whore. Were teachers even allowed to do these things? He didn't think so.

Finally, Ivan's car pulled up closely to the bench. Matthew opened the door and let himself in, remembering to lock the door manually.

"Jean." Ivan's voice purred. Matthew glanced at him, forcing a smile and squinting his eyes in a way to look mischievous.

"Ivan." He responded back, buckling his seatbelt.

"How was your week?"

"Well." Matthew's eye twitched some when he glanced away. Receiving kindness shouldn't have irked him as much as it did when Ivan was doing it, but it _just did. _He wouldn't have asked the same of any other client, but he was curious to see what information he could get from Ivan without trying too hard. Would he admit to being a teacher? "How was your week?"

"Long, as usual." He yawned. "I hope you don't mind, the house is a bit of a mess but it's just cluttered."

"That's fine." Matthew raised a brow. "Anything special you want this night?"

"Special?"

"Yeah… Like requests."

"Uh…" Ivan kept his eyes on the road, his voice fading into the silence.

"I take it as you're new to this?" Matthew laughed, trying to not sound rude. "Not many people who hire me kiss me, either. You're probably one of the two or three who have."

"They don't?"

"It's kinda of an intimate, romantic thing, you know? I'm not being paid to romance you, I'm being paid to be fucked by you. Others just don't want herpes, which is why I tend to avoid it myself."

"Huh. I always put those things together. I've never had sex without kissing my partner."

Matthew sighed. "Good for you."

"What's that supposed to mean? Compared to your experience?"

"I'm not supposed to talk much, sorry." _Drop the subject._

"Jean, what are your other clients like?"

Another sigh. "Are you really interested in knowing?"

"Sure."

"I don't get to know most of my clients. Some do get talkative and they're start telling me their life story, which you could probably guess are the ones who are frustrated or depressed. It's so typical, no offensive if you fit either of those categories." Ivan laughed some. "Only a few would ask about me, really. Usually curious on why I am who I am, ask me if my father ever loved me."

"Typical."

"You got that right." They both laughed.

"If you must know, I didn't plan on hiring you again after the first time."

"Is that so?"

"It's just, I've been single for a good while now. It's no sob story, really. And Gilbert, you know him, right? He always wants to bother me, talk to me like we're friends. He happened to mention you. He's talked about hiring ladies or men for a good fuck but he said your eyes looked similar to mine, so that got me a little interested in hearing about you. The more he talked about you, the more I thought it would be a good idea to try something new out and give you a call. Is it bad to say I was a little guilty after I made plans with you?"

"Nope." Matthew's answer was quick.

"Well, after last weekend, I realized there's no harm in good fun, right?"

"If you find illegally hiring a prostitute harmless than go ahead."

"Sex is good, as long as it's consensual."

"I feel you."

"So what's the harm when there's money involved?"

"Sex is a sacred thing that should be done between a man and woman who are in love and married." Matthew spoke, almost in a mocking voice, hoping Ivan would agree rather than be offended. "Gay whores like me is the harm, and it's Adam and Eve, not Adam, Ivan, Gilbert, Jean and every other person who wants to be involved. I'm ruining America."

Ivan laughed the hardest Matthew had ever seen the man laugh. He reached out a hand in attempt to calm the man down and not allow him to lead them into an accident.

"I don't know you well, Jean, but please, stay you." Ivan told him once he calmed down. A sincere smile appeared on Matthew's face.

…

Ivan was on his second cigarette after their first round. Matthew was laying on his side, facing away from him. Ivan had prepared a little better that time and had a towel ready for him, which he had laying against his naked body after he cleaned up.

"Jean," Ivan broke the silence, Matthew didn't feel the need to look at him.

"Hm?"

"What's your most interesting experience?"

The question sent chills down Matthew's spine. Not in a fearful manner, but a joyful, comfortable way. "My most interesting experience…" He thought for a second. _That would be… _He didn't know if he wanted to discuss anything further with Ivan. He was getting too friendly with the man already, and he knew it could lead to danger. But perhaps not sharing too much about himself apart from his job wouldn't hurt. Neither would filling the in between time with something other than staring at a wall.

"I met this one guy where he worked." The guy was Lars, and that was when he was first working at the supermarket near where Matthew's bench was. "It didn't take him long to realize who I was, and he decided to hire me one night. I had thought that first time went well, but afterwards I realized something was a little off with him. He was already stoic and not so talkative, so I didn't think much of it. He hired me again, and half-way through, he stopped." Matthew shifted his position to where he was looking up at the ceiling. "And he started crying. I didn't hesitate to comfort him, and I even asked what he was upset about.

"He shook his head in response, but later calmed down and told me what was going on. He had a girlfriend who had lost his virginity to but never enjoyed sex with her, though he loved her and felt like he wanted to be intimate with her. After they had broken up, he wanted to try sex out with me.

"He didn't like that either. He said sex was like a chore he felt was natural for him to do and want to do, but he just didn't like doing it and never liked the idea of doing it. He thought he was broken.

"So, I asked him if he considered identifying as asexual. I had to explain what it was and how it was normal, and that got him cheered up. I heard back from him a day later, and he thanked me."

"Good for him," Ivan smiled. "Good for you, too."

"I guess." Matthew rolled over, murmuring. "Are you going to spend more time with that mouth of yours asking questions and on a cigarette rather than being all over my neck right now?" Matthew's heart skipped in sudden anxiety. He was being rude, but he was bored and wanting to stop Ivan from asking further questions. But being a sass had gotten him kicked out of a client's home and not paid before.

"Relax some, Jean. What's the rush?" Matthew rolled over again to face the wall, sighing. "Is asking questions bad?" Matthew stayed silent; Ivan let out a 'hm' and stuck his cigarette into the ash tray.

"What's yours?" Matthew uttered, quietly.

"Hm?"

"Your most interesting experience." The room was quiet again. Ivan shifted some to get relaxed next to Matthew.

"Have you ever been to a hibachi grill? You know, with the talented chefs that cook your food right in front of you?"

"Yes, I've eaten at some before, too.

"I dated one a chef that worked at one."

Matthew rolled over to look at Ivan. "No way, really?"

"Mhm." Ivan slid his hand to touch Matthew's arm. "He taught me how to cook, too."

"With all the tricks, too?"

"No." Ivan moved to where he was looming over him, slowly running his hand up and down his arm. "He tried, but I just couldn't get a hang of it."

Matthew nodded, moving his hands to touch his sides and leaning his head back. He grabbed the dirty towel off his body with his foot. He gazed up at Ivan, smiling.

"But enough about that…" Ivan started, but leaning over to kiss and bite onto Matthew's neck. Matthew closed his eyes, waiting for his second night with the teacher to pass by.

…

"I didn't mean that question for earlier to be specifically about your job." Ivan told Jean in the car on the way back to the supermarket area. "I kinda want to know who you are behind your job."

"You're wasting your time." Matthew responded. _Your reaction would be no different than that of my friends and family if they even learn about who I am on the job. _He thought to himself.

"I don't see what else I could be doing in this said wasted time."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Whatever, but just so you know I don't give discounts to friends."

"Oh, we're friends?"

Matthew glared at him, turning red. "Whatever makes you feel better, darling."

…

Thanks for reading, and thanks for the reviews. Very appreciated!


End file.
